The third player
by Jigoku-kun
Summary: Practicing your ability is fine. As long as you don't screw up, that is. Well, he guessed dimensional travel wasn't all that bad. He got a nice notebook after all for his troubles.


_When you die, some people liked to say that you will see some sort of light. You touch it and you go to heaven. You won't see a light when you go to hell. It probably gets just dark then. He never believed in what others told him, and he never would, unless he got facts, things that were true to hundred percent. Trusting others blindly is a stupid thing to do. Perhaps THE most stupid thing in the world. It was also something that was useless in his opinion, and brought only bad things with it. You'll most likely just end up betrayed in the end. _

_Because of this conclusion he ignored the warning and touched it. It wasn't like he was scared at the thought of dying. It was a natural part of life after all, wasn't it? So why the hell should he be afraid of it? Hah. Hell. He wondered briefly why he apparently wasn't going there. The real question though, quite obviously should be; why was there a goddamn light to begin with? He wasn't injured, wasn't dying. At least, he believed he wasn't. _

_Perhaps, just perhaps, the thought crossed his mind; he shouldn't have experimented with his ability. Perhaps then, he wouldn't accidentally have opened up a hole in the fucking universe, or at least in the air before him, everything beyond it completely black. Perhaps then, he wouldn't have found himself in a completely white and sterile room, a ball of light floating in the middle of it. He really shouldn't have touched it at least. Why he did something stupid like this went beyond him. He wouldn't do it the next time. If there was one, that is. _

_The moment he touched that floating ball of light, something he still scolded himself for, everything exploded. Literally. Perhaps he was going to hell after all. Remembering the advice of not touching it became apparently needless. _

_Well, let's just see what happens. It isn't like he could do something else after all._

_His eyes were hurting due to the brightness, but even while blind, he realized he wasn't in the room anymore. The smell of auto gas, trash and alcohol hit his nose, while he could hear the occasional car driving somewhere near his location. _

_Was the light a teleporting device or something like that? He snarled. Finally. His sight had returned. _

"_What… eh?!" _

_It was the first thing that came to his mind. He most definitely wasn't in Academy City anymore. Instead, he was in some dark back-alley, which stunk rather viciously, in who-knows-where. He let out a sigh. Just his luck. Now stay calm and asses the situa… Oh, know what? Screw it. Leaving this dump was his first priority. Managing to calm himself somewhat down, he left the alley and stepped out into the barely existing light of a street light. _

_Red eyes were locked at the unknown city. White hair fell into his face. Pale skin was glistening. The eleven year old boy just stood there, doing nothing in particular. An oversized, light grey sweatshirt hung on his frail body, which looked like it would snap if someone touched him. Black, tight jeans hugged his hips and slim legs, ending in also black sneakers. _

_He looked harmless, and yet there was something unnerving about the boy, looking at everything, seemingly glaring, and having adopted a cold and calculating gaze. _

_Besides that, he looked like a perfectly ordinary boy. _

_Only that he wasn't._

_He was Accelerator, the strongest Level 5 esper of Academy City, no, the world. Well, he just got the title a week ago. There was also the current fact of him not being in Academy City anymore. He would most likely need an actual name here, or else he would just get funny looks and people accusing him of lying. _

_Hmm, what name to use. Maybe that as a family name, just for the hell of it. And as an actual name - ahh, yes. That would do. He knew a boy by that name, completely innocent, people always saying how the name fit the boy so well. He would borrow it._

_A smile crept on his face, looking terrifying. Hopefully it would be interesting in this world. He slowly started walking along the street. First things first, he needed money. Money and food. A nice living place would be good, too. He didn't feel like going to an orphanage. That would mean putting up with annoying and babying caretakers, and whiny, little kids doing stupid stuff. There was no way he'd put up with that. Also, some caretakers gave him the creeps. They most definitely were just working there to be near little children. Damn paedophiles. _

_That put aside – he should really stop over thinking not so important things that much – how would he even get money? He was too young to apply for any job. The employees would probably call the orphanage, which he wanted to avoid. Come to think, he had some skills at pick pocketing. He just needed to avoid getting caught during the act. But even when, he could just play innocent. Yes, it sounded like a good plan, even though it was improvised. _

_Everything would just work out. Somehow at least, he hoped. Nevertheless, he looked forward seeing more of this new place._

_At another place, there was a black-haired teen with a feral grin plastered on his face. "Found you~" The grin got wider, if that was even possible, as he licked strawberry jam off his fingers, one by one. Behind him there stood a tall figure, hidden by a cloak, looking at the teen, an oppressing feeling coming from it, as said teens eyes glowed an eerie red. _

"_My precious little Ace~"_

_A couple of feet further, there laid a red notebook, a glass of strawberry jam standing besides it. Around it was nothing, but a big wasteland. It looked dead. _

_Dust was twirling around, as the black wings on the teens back opened themselves._

_There were several things that happened on the same time._

_The teen's eyes glowed red, to the same time Accelerators did, too. He didn't realize it._

_A gothic looking Shinigami was watching others play poker, while glancing at the two notebooks on his belt. He refused to join them when they asked._

_Another teen closed the book he was reading, and went to sleep, not wanting to get eye rings. His last hour tomorrow would be English, he remembered. It would be boring like always, and the teacher would make him read as always._

_Then the red notebook vanished, together with the cloaked figure. _

_The black-haired teen grabbed the glass of jam and dunked his hand in it. _

_He really loved this stuff. _


End file.
